


Let's Make This Forever

by ThatFeanorian



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Anxiety, Fluff, I wrote this because I needed love, Kissing, Lots of kissing, Love, M/M, Maedhros and fingon being idiots, Making Out, Marriage Proposal, Russingon, This is so soft, but not really, my first attempts at NFSW, my working title on this was poppin the question, semi modern au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-24
Updated: 2020-09-24
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:21:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26622841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatFeanorian/pseuds/ThatFeanorian
Summary: Maedhros finally gets up the courage to ask Fingon to marry him.
Relationships: Fingon | Findekáno & Maedhros | Maitimo, Fingon | Findekáno/Maedhros | Maitimo
Comments: 10
Kudos: 44





	Let's Make This Forever

**Author's Note:**

> This is told in more modernized wording but I think it would work just as well in the canon verse as in my modern AU. This is also my first attempt at any kind of NFSW, so feedback is very much appreciated! Enjoy!

The forest is bright and clear, golden in the autumn breeze and full of the smell of fall. Fall and Fingon, for that is who bounces along beside Maedhros, his dark braids dancing down his back like they have a mind and fëa of their own and nothing better to occupy their time than to follow the wind and Fingon’s buoyant steps in a dance of their own creation.  
Maedhros wraps his arms a little tighter around himself as a cool breeze blows off the river that gurgles and splashes along beside them and reaches one hand down to twine his fingers with Fingon’s, causing his cousin to abruptly halt his chattering and gift Maedhros a soft warm smile. 

It is the perfect day and Maedhros is terrified. Fingon squeezes his hand and leans forwards on his tiptoes to press a kiss to Maedhros’s cheek.

“What are you worrying about now?” He asks softly, tucking himself below Maedhros’s arm and shivering at the chilly air. Maedhros shrugs,

“Nothing much, just… just us I guess.” It isn’t a lie. Maedhros is always worrying about ‘them’. He knows that he will never be worth a tenth of the bright and bubbly golden light that is Fingon and it constantly worries him that he is stealing Fingon’s time, stealing his affections when they would be better spent on a more worthy candidate.  
He is constantly worrying about himself too. What will he do if Fingon someday leaves him? Is he saying the right things? Doing the right things? Being the best he possibly can for someone who is effortlessly perfect? In a way, it is those worries that have led him to this moment: that and his selfish interest in seeing Fingon as only his, forever and as long as the two of them can stay together. 

“What’s to worry about here?” Fingon asks fondly, squeezing Maedhros’s hand again to pull him out of his thoughts, “I would think that in the vast world of ‘Things Nelyo Should Worry About’ I would be pretty low on the list. It’s not like I’m going anywhere.”

“I know that,” Maedhros responds quickly, not at all sure that his words are true, “I just… I really love you Finno.” Fingon hums happily, looking up with his bright blue eyes at Maedhros who is for a moment breathless and dumbstruck by the volume of love he sees in them. 

Of course, Fingon is never going anywhere, Fingon is here and that is what matters. Beside them the river flows along, murmuring words in some unintelligible language Maedhros wishes he could understand. Perhaps hearing the river’s speech would give him the courage he needs to get on with this best of worst days. 

In his pocket, a single band of pale silver set with a sapphire is heated by the warmth of his skin. Beside him, Fingon is promising to never leave him. 

Maedhros cannot understand why he is still terrified. 

“Hey, Nelyo, you in there?” Fingon smiles gently at him and Maedhros blinks, pulling himself back to the present moment. 

“Yeah, sorry, I got distracted.” He internally curses himself; these are precious moments that he gets to spend with Fingon. He should not be wasting them absorbed in his own self-doubt and misery. Fingon deserves more than that. 

“That’s okay,” Fingon responds, “I guess I just need to be doing more to… distract you.” 

“Finno!” Maedhros protests, glancing around nervously even though they are alone in the forest, it is only them and the bubbling river, bouncing over rocks and happily chattering along in its own mysterious language. Even the birds are quiet in the stillness of twilight and the chilly fall air. 

“What?” Fingon replies, grinning, “Would you be opposed to distraction? You obviously need it!”

“Yes! Finno… anyone could see and…” Maedhros protests weakly, but Fingon’s fingers are twining into his hair and pulling him down for a kiss and Maedhros really doesn’t have the energy to refuse him. 

“C’mon Nelyo, nobody’s watching,” Fingon whispers against his lips and dimly in the back of his mind, Maedhros remembers that he had plans for this time, plans that he intended to see through to their completion. But, Fingon’s mouth is warm and pliable and insistent against his, Fingon’s hands are in his hair pulling him down into the kiss, and really, Maedhros reasons with himself, his plans will not suffer for waiting an hour or so. 

After all, this is Fingon. Maedhros has never been able to tell him no. His arms wrap low around Fingon’s waist, pulling him closer and his mouth opens as Fingon presses himself against Maedhros, his tongue slipping into Maedhros’s mouth as he pushes himself up onto his tiptoes and pulls Maedhros’s head down to press harder against his own mouth.  
“S-- see? Nobody’s watching,” Fingon mumbles and Maedhros moans wantonly against him, already shamefully hard in his jeans. Fingon is everywhere, in his mouth, in his hair, in his mind, and Maedhros can feel his ecstasy like it is his own. His skin is on fire with Fingon’s touch and it is too much, too much, too much, and not enough. 

Fingon presses forwards again, trying desperately to get closer and Maedhros squeezes him tight, kissing him fiercely. The world has narrowed to Fingon: Fingon’s hands tugging on his hair, Fingon’s mouth, Fingon’s legs which have somehow ended up stradling one of Maedhros’s own. Fingon whines, tiny uncontrollable thrusts of his hips grinding against Maedhros’s thigh, and Maedhros can almost feel the blood rushing away from his head, leaving him dizzy and full of nothing but Fingon’s love.  
Fingon’s love.

Fingon presses forwards one last time and Maedhros loses his balance and falls backwards, letting out a surprised yelp as he drags Fingon with him into the river. The water is freezing and Maedhros blinks a few times before he is fully able to focus his eyes. Fingon is spluttering and scrubbing water from his eyes, and Maedhros’s mind immediately shifts from  
“Oh, oh Valar, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean… Are you okay?” Maedhros tries to stand but trips and falls again, landing on top of Fingon who flops backwards in the shallow water and begins giggling uncontrollably.

“Nelyo… I’m… I’m fine… are you…?” He wheezes between fits of laughter and Maedhros’s panic settles down enough for him to crack a smile at the sight of the two of them soaking wet alone in the forest

“Yes, I’m fine.” He responds quickly, rolling off of Fingon and standing carefully on the slippery unstable large rocks beneath his feet. He reaches down, pulling Fingon up with him, and for a moment everything is still except for the playful splashing of the water and their breath mingling in the cool autumn air. The moment is frozen, perfect, and all Maedhros can look at is Fingon: the beads of water running down over his beautiful smooth chocolaty skin, the way his soaking wet shirt is clinging to his chest, the sparkle of laughter still lighting up his eyes as he stares, breathless, back. 

“Nelyo,” Fingon whispers, and Maedhros shivers at the sound of his name on FIngon’s swollen well-kissed lips. He swallows hard, suddenly sure that it is this moment or none at all.  
“I-- Finno, can I ask you something?” Fingon nods wordlessly and Maedhros, suddenly filled with the terror he had been so blissfully lacking moments previously, surges forwards, pulling Fingon into the tightest hug he can manage. If he is going to lose everything, he must --at least-- have Fingon for these last few moments. 

His cousin softens into the hug immediately, his arms coming to wrap tightly around Maedhros in turn, one hand twining back into his hair.

“I-- will you… would you maybe… Marry me?” Fingon stiffens in his arms and then he is being pulled down and Fingon’s mouth is back on his and they are both soaking, soaking wet, but it doesn’t matter because this is all Maedhros has wanted the whole time: Fingon. Just Fingon. 

“Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes,” Fingon chants against his lips, pulling back just enough to dive back in with such ferocity that it nearly pushes Maedhros back into the river again.  
“Lets-- Finno, May I make this forever?” He whispers and finally, finally he is not afraid of Fingon saying no.


End file.
